


Conventionality belongs to yesterday

by StrawberryLane



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Engagement, Established Relationship, Family Issues, In-Laws, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Prejudice, Protective Original Percival Graves, Pureblood Society, Purebloods, Thanksgiving Dinner, blood status
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: As it is, Percival's partner of choice isn't Camilla Truewood, nor is it any other pureblooded witch, like his mother so desperately wants.His partner is not only a half blood with a no-maj upbringing, but also a man. Add to the facts that Credence Barebone is an obscurial and you've got yourself a tremendously uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on [this](http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1881504#cmt1881504) prompt from the kinkmeme.
> 
> [This](http://www.isadoras.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/non-traditional-engagement-ring-468x375.jpg) is the engagement ring Credence is wearing.
> 
> Title is a lyric from the song Grease from the movie by the same name.

Flavius and Celestina Graves are, in Percival's humble opinion, more than slightly old fashioned. While they do their best to hide their dismay at him bringing his chosen partner to Thanksgiving dinner, they aren't entirely successful.

If Percival's chosen partner had been, say, Camilla Truewood, the only heiress to the old, wealthy and pureblooded Truewood family, Flavius and Celestina's behavior would have been entirely different, Percival knows. They would have done everything they could to impress the young lady, would have done whatever it took to see their son marry miss Truewood in a ceremony of considerable size.

As it is, Percival's partner of choice isn't Camilla Truewood, nor is it any other pureblooded witch, like his mother so desperately wants.

His partner is not only a half blood with a no-maj upbringing, but also a man. Add to the facts that Credence Barebone is an obscurial and you've got yourself a tremendously uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinner.

The thing is, when Celestina got wind of the news that her son had gotten quietly engaged, she demanded to meet said fiance at once. "It doesn't reflect well on us as a family, Percival, when I have to hear of your engagement through Hortenzia Dale, the old gossip. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? I had to stand there, pretending I knew what she was going on about. It was absolutely humiliating."

So really, Celestina Graves has no one to blame but herself.

So far, dinner has been... rough, to say the least. It began all right, with Percival's parents greeting them at the door. Celestina, dressed in her finest dress and her best jewelry and Flavius in his sharpest suit, had managed to hide their surprise at the fact that Credence was, well, a man, surprisingly well, only throwing a couple of subtle digs as they moved into the living room for pre dinner drinks.

"Are you even old enough to drink, Credence?" had been Celestina's opening sentence. It had gone downhill from there.

They're sitting in the too large, too empty dinging hall in the Graves Manor, the spoons scraping against their bowls of steaming hot ham and potato soup being the only source of noise in the room. Flavius has, to his credit, made several attempts to start a conversation, no matter how bland. So far, they have discussed the weather, the surprise engagement, the weather again, the state of the Graves Manor and Gwendolyn the house elf, Percival's job at MACUSA, what Credence might be doing while Percival is at said work, the weather once again, Credence's family line and now, the weather, yet again.

"It's awfully gray outside," Flavius points out for the fourth time, dabbing his mouth delicately with a napkin as impeccably white as the mustache he has sported for as long as Percival can remember. Obviously it hasn't always been white. For a very long period of time, it was dark brown, just like the man's hair once was.

"I ran into Camilla Truewood the other day," Celestina cuts in, signaling for Gwendolyn to bring in the next course of their dinner. "At Ebbingdales. Absolutely lovely to see her again. Camilla is a dear family friend," she tells Credence, a small smile playing on her lips. "I always thought she was the one Percival would end up with."

Credence, who had been hesitant when Percival first brought up Thanksgiving celebration, and greatly concerned with making a good first impression, smiles back a smile of his own, one Percival has begun to think of as his manners-matter-smile. It's not Credence's true smile, not even close. Instead it's a bleak copy, one the young man turns to when a smile is expected of him, but Credence feels like doing literally anything else.

"She's not that dear of a friend," Percival mutters under his breath, moving his hand down to pat Credence's thigh reassuringly under the table. They're sitting next to each other, across from Celestina. Flavius, as the head of the household, is sitting on the short end of the table, between Percival and Celestina.

As the dinner progresses, Percival watches his young fiance shrink deeper and deeper back into the behavior he learnt while living with Mary Lou Barebone. He hunches his shoulders, bends his neck, curls into himself to make himself as small a target as he can. He answers Celestina's increasingly inappropriate questions and comments as carefully he can, painstakingly avoiding any answers that might be unsatisfactory.

Celestina even drops a comment or two, subtle ones, on how she has longed so very much to become a grandmother, to see her son raise children of his own, but now, with Percival's apparent interest in someone who can never give him any offspring, she'll never get her wish.

For some reason, that seems to be the comment that breaks Credence. It's subtle, in a way Percival knows his parents won't even notice, but Credence's hands are trembling when he carefully puts down his fork and puts his hands out of sight, in his lap, grabbing at his own thighs, grounding his nails into the flesh of his legs.

"Look at the time," Percival says, staring at his mother, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "We need to get going. Thank you for the dinner, but we need to leave now," he rises from his seat, blindly grabbing for Credence as he does. Gwendolyn the house elf appears with a pop, ready to show them to the door and bring them their coats.

"But we haven't even had dessert," Celestina tries, gripping the table, red spots high on her cheeks. Flavius is watching both his wife and his son, silently. It's a scene that has reappeared throughout Percival's life. Every time he has had a fight of any kind with his mother, his father has watched on, refusing to take sides.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it when you do. Excellent cooking as always, Gwendolyn," Percival turns to the house elf, who beams at him.

Celestina scoffs. "Well, let me at least walk you to the door," she says, standing up and smoothing out a few invisible wrinkles on her dress. "I would like to have a word with you, Percival. In private," she adds.

"Go with Gwendolyn and get your coat," Percival whispers to Credence, "I'll be right with you."

Credence leaves with Gwendolyn, throwing a glance back at Percival and Celestina and they disappear into Flavius' study, perhaps the only room in the entire manor that has a homey feel to it.

"I can't believe you gave him Gloriana's ring," Celestina begins, sitting down in one of the plush armchairs. She quickly waves a hand in the air and a second later a glass of Flavius supposedly secret bottle of wine comes floating through the air. Celestina takes a sip and quirks an eyebrow at her son.

"Do sit down, Percival."

Percival, because he takes great pleasure in doing whatever his mother doesn't want him to do, remains standing.

"Why do you care who I give Gloriana's ring to? You've never cared before."

Gloriana's ring, the ring that is currently making itself at home on Credence's ring finger, has been in the Graves' family for centuries, given to Gloriana Graves as a gift from the knight that became her betrothed. It's silver and onyx embedded into each other and quite a simple thing as far as the Graves' family jewelry goes. It looks lovely on Credence.

"That's because I assumed you had the brains to do what is right. Marrying some boy you found on the street, some boy with no connections and no status, is not the right thing to do. The right thing, the correct thing would be to marry Camilla Truewood, like we've always spoken of-"

"You've spoken of it. I've never agreed to it, you know that."

Celestina sighs and rolls her eyes. "Think about it, Percival. You meet this poor boy, with no known ancestry. He has no money and anyone who has studied their American magic history knows the Graves' nameline carry a lot of wealth and power. Have you even considered the fact that he only wants you for your status? For your money?"

"Are you implying my fiance is a gold digger?" If Percival could get away with hexing his own mother, he would do it in a heartbeat. As it is, he settles for moving towards the door, intending to leave the room and the manor as quickly as possible. He needs to let his anger go, and this is not the place for that.

"Of course not. I'm just telling you Percival, be careful. Don't give away all of your secrets."

"It's too late for that," Percival snaps as he wrenches the door open, stepping through. He can see Credence waiting at the end of the corridor, hat on and coat buttoned up. Percival grabs his own coat and grabs Credence by the arm before even getting it halfway on. He spins on his heel quickly, apparating away from his parents' miserable empty building of a home. The anger coiling in his stomach is making him feel like he's going to explode from the inside. Is this how Credence feels when the obscurus wants out?

They land in the middle of their own living room, thankfully a much softer and much more cluttered place than Flavius' and Celestina's.

Credence sits down on the sofa the minute Percival lets go of him. He looks so small, curled up on the green sofa, dressed in his best suit.

"I'm sorry," Percival tells him. "I didn't mean for it to turn out this way."

*

Credence spends the night snuggled up in Percival's arms, but by the time the older man returns from work the next day, Credence has withdrawn himself. It's something he does at times, so Percival doesn't bother him about it, instead focusing on fixing an edible dinner - he's always been shit at household spells. It's part of the reason why his house is so cluttered. It's not that he's a cluttery kind of person, it's just that he's bad at cleaning spells and too lazy to actually clean things up with his hands.

They eat dinner in silence, Credence deep in his own head and Percival trying to figure out how to coax his fiance out of it. Credence perks up a little later in the evening, when they're sitting on the sofa, reading some of Percival's old school books.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Credence's mood swings wildly all over the place. From happy and sweet to sour to obscurus levels of angry, black tendrils of smoke floating from his body as Percival stands in front of him and gently tries to calm him down. Their house is a very obscurus unfriendly house, as most houses are.

Credence has been an avid reader for as long as Percival has known him - devouring books at a pace Percival didn't know was possible. The weeks after the disastrous visit to Percival's family home, the pace increases even further. Credence has his nose buried in a book at almost all hours of the day.

When he's not reading books, Percival's young fiance spends his time cuddling as close to Percival as he can come.

"Do you want children?" Credence asks one night, when they're already laying in bed, Percival on the verge of falling asleep. He jerks his head up to look at Credence, who's cocooned in the blankets. He has a serious look in his face, indicating that whatever Percival's answer is, he's going to take it seriously.

"I don't know," Percival answers, truthfully. "Maybe when I was younger, but the older I've gotten, the more I've assumed having children wasn't something I would experience. I'm fine either way, honestly."

"Your mother seemed to think you want-"

"What my mother thinks I want and what I actually want are two vastly different things, and they always have been. Don't trust what she tells you, darling."

"So you're not going to leave me because I can't bear your children? Because I looked it up, and apparently there's these different spells to make a man capable of carrying children," Credence has sat up in the bed now, still keeping himself small, avoiding looking directly at Percival.

"Those spells are serious dark magic, Credence, and nothing to be trifled with," Percival sits up too, and leans against the headrest.

"And I'm not going to leave you. I knew entering this relationship with you that children probably wasn't going to be part of it. It's a logical assumption to make, you know. Do you- Do you want children?" Percival turns to Credence, who's fiddling his thumbs and biting the inside of his cheek.

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't particularly like children, and I wouldn't know how to care for one even if I did."

"I think you know how to care about children just fine, should you want to. Just look at Modesty, you did all right with that," Percival reaches out to pull Credence close, the young man more or less falling into his lap.

*

Percival sends an owl to his mother before leaving for work early next morning. Credence is still sleeping, looking so much like an angel Percival didn't have the heart to wake him up.

Celestina meets him at the Plaza for a quick lunch. It's got more of a business feel to it than a mother and son reuniting, but that's just how it is. Percival, who has no real desire to stay and actually eat lunch with Celestina, goes straight to the point, no unnecessary small talk.

"If I promise you that you will see the Graves nameline continued, in some way or other, do you promise to back off and leave me and my future husband alone?"

"How do you plan on doing that? Dearest, won't you please sit still? People are looking."

"I'll find a way, don't worry about it."

"I just want to make sure you've considered all of your options. I'm sure Camilla Truewood could be persuaded into bearing your children, even if you insist on staying with that good for nothing boy. We only have to-"

"I said, don't worry about it."

Celestina frowns, but says no more. They eat in terse silence, both fleeing as soon as is socially acceptable.

*

"We should get married soon, I think," Percival tells Credence later that night.

"We should," Credence agrees. "Are your parents... Will they want to do a whole lavish ceremony? Or will they just ignore your marriage, because it's me?" Credence asks. He looks uncomfortable at the prospect of having to spend another minute in the company of Mr and Mrs Graves Senior and Percival chuckles, despite his fiance's very real concern.

"I was thinking we wouldn't involve them at all, actually. The only one I really need present at my wedding is you, screw the rest."

They get married on a Wednesday, an ordinary day in the middle of an ordinary week. It's just them and the priest, no fancy stuff needed. Percival can literally feel Credence smiling into their kiss, his real smile this time, the one that fills Percival with a sense of happiness he didn't know existed before he met his husband.

*

Two weeks after their wedding, once they return from their honeymoon in Hawaii, Percival takes Credence along with him to a bleak and rundown orphanage in the Bronx, run by nuns.

"Hello," Graves tells the woman who meets them at the door. "We're here to officially adopt and pick up Modesty Barebone. The papers are all signed and ready to go."

A quick wave of his hand and the nun turns right back around and fetches Modesty from somewhere inside the orphanage, no questions asked.

Modesty Barebone gets adopted by her older brother Credence and his new husband Percival Graves later that afternoon, officially becoming Modesty Graves.

When Celestina Graves finally decides reads the letter Percival sends her to inform his family of this twist of fate, she has to sit down in shock and tell her husband she needs to go lie down a little, because her nerves really can't take much more.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
